


Comfort

by Macs_Baby_Girl



Category: AU - Fandom, Blade 2
Genre: Cuddles, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, contains mention of pot smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macs_Baby_Girl/pseuds/Macs_Baby_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a crap day at work, Scud comforts her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

Title: Comfort  
Category: Movies » Blade  
Author: Missus MacManus  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T  
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort  
Published: 09-12-14, Updated: 09-12-14  
Chapters: 1, Words: 771  
Chapter 1: Chapter 1  
COMFORT

\- AU. A bad day leads to couch snuggles, movies, and cigarettes with Scud. Just a short fluffy thing. Romance. Not smutty.

I slammed the door to the studio, tossing my purse onto the bench as I stomped down the hallway to the shabby living room.

The television blared old cartoons and the smell of weed smoke assaulted my nose as I flopped down on the threadbare couch beside my roommate-and-sort-of-boyfriend, Scud.

"Bad day, sweetheart?" He asked lazily as I kicked off my platform boots.

"The fucking worst," I assured him, snagging a joint off the table and lighting it.

"Boss again?" He asked, tossing an arm over my shoulders, pulling me snug against him.

"Just assholes in general," I groused, resting my head on his shoulder, his long dark hair tickling my face.

"Don't let the fuckers get you, sweetheart," he set aside the butt of the joint he had been smoking into the ashtray on the crappy coffee table.

"I try." I shrugged. And I did, truly. Sometimes I dressed like normal girls. Sometimes I stuck to my own style. Either way, anyone who came into my workplace turned their nose up and never trusted my fashion sense.

Never mind the fact that I was GOOD at my job. I worked in a bridal gown shop, and I was certain the only reason I hadn't been fired was because once I finally got customers what they wanted, they praised me despite my "lack of suiting the job".

Today had sucked. Majorly. A beautiful girl, tanned, brunette, had come in with two girls who could have been her sisters or her friends, looking for what she called a "Princess gown".

I'd picked a few, carefully listened to what she'd vaguely described, and eventually she chose an elaborate gown, opting to have crystals sewn into the extravagant train.

She'd been nice enough. But her friends had whispered not-so-subtly as I had rushed around looking for gowns.

"God, LOOK at those goth boots!"

"What the hell is such a hippy doing working here?"

"She's not even a hippy! Look at that haircut!"

"Doesn't she know pixies went out of style in like, 2009?"

The main girl shook her head, trying not to laugh.

"Don't be so mean. Poor thing probably doesn't have a man who loves her."

And when they'd left, the bride had hugged me, thanked me, and then said, perhaps entirely innocently;

"You've been so helpful! Such a shame you aren't married, sweetie."

I didn't want or expect to get married. I didn't think Scud was that kind of guy. And that suited me just fine. But their comments had stung, nonetheless.

"Hey," Scud cut through my miserable reminiscing, "earth to pixie girl?"

"Sorry, I was just... Thinking, I guess."

"Time for a new job, maybe?" He suggested as I stubbed out the joint in the ashtray.

"Maybe girls just shouldn't be so fucking bitchy," I grumbled, practically climbing into his lap as we watched the television.

"Hey," he said seriously, gently grabbing my face so I was looking at him, "whatever they said, ignore them. Okay?"

I was entirely certain my facial expression was pathetic and miserable. I pouted.

"Okay." I kissed him softly then snuggled into him. He smelled, as usual, of pot and icing sugar, the kind you get on glazed donuts.

He wrapped both his surprisingly strong arms around me, holding me so tight I was reminded of a child hugging a stuffed animal. Or of myself, hugging my cat. My cat!

"Um, Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Kitty?"

"Sleeping, or something." He shrugged, not removing his arms from me.

Kitty did that a lot recently- I was certain it was the pot fumes. Josh just thought she was lazy, and liked to feed her scraps of donuts.

I didn't want to start a pointless debate - I was starting to feel quite hazy and sleepy, the bright colors of the cartoons on the television not helping.

"Y'know," Scud pulled me out of my dope-fuelled reverie, "cartoons nowadays suck. I miss PPG."

I couldn't help but smile.

"What's wrong with Adventure Time?" I asked, mock offended.

He shrugged.

"The dude who wrote this shit was higher than me," he pointed out.

I giggled.

"Yeah but when we're high it's even better," I said, "though if you're getting bored we can always do something else..."

The last part sounded way more suggestive than I'd wanted it to.

"Like what?" He smirked.

"Monopoly?" I suggested innocently.

"Fuck that," he swept me up into his arms and stood, carrying me bridal-style down the hallway, bad television and bad days forgotten.


End file.
